In this collection, Anne Waters Green "captures both the smallest detail and the greatest majesty of the natural world. But she doesn't overlook the peaks and valleys of the human world." Her poems are "informed by art, music, history, religion, nature, and family lore"- an invitation to pause "to reflect on the grace all around us, what's been given and what's been lost, and how much is left to discover."
"Anne Waters Green's watchful eye captures both the smallest detail and the greatest majesty of the natural world. But she doesn't overlook the peaks and valleys of the human world. Insightful as well as watchful, she shows how nature and people connect and reflect each other, as when she describes 'anhingä.¿.¿.¿feathers displayed like piano keys.' These lovely poems are as clear as a mountain stream and as expressive as a Chopin prelude."
-¿Eric Nelson, Horse Not Zebra
"There is a spirit and a lively mind behind these poems informed by art, music, history, religion, nature, and family lore. A turn in a trail or of a season, a hawk on a wire or constellation are invitations to pause, to reflect on the grace all around us, what's been given and what's been lost, and how much is left to discover."
-¿Laura Davenport, Dear Vulcan
"The Watchful Eye rewards the reader with incisive, straightforward poems. The voice is clear, devoid of sentiment, and older, carrying the gravitas of many years. The poems range over landscapes, from Georgia to the Carolinas, illuminating the natural world with marvelous imagery: a 'queue of turtles,' fireflies (with 'lamplit tail frantic'), hummingbirds, wrens, 'huddling deer,' and 'salt-pruned' sceneries. This richness, amplified by a sense of personal history, also offers a broader view: feminism, Thomas Jefferson, the biblical Queen Vashti. The book is an elegiac journey, from a time when quilting hooks were 'screwed' into a parlor's ceiling to an ever-watchful, present eye: 'I wonder how blue paint¿/¿can block the spirit world¿/¿if blue skies cannot.' The signature voice can be ironic, wry, close to comic, but always celebratory. 'Mother died with her lipstick on.' And this poet is 'game to carry on.'¿"
-¿Tina Barr, Pink Moon
